How could I share my life with the world without mentioning one of the most important influences on my life. Albert Flack, even though I only was around him sparaddically through out my life, has been , and always will be, an important person to remember. The world, it seems, lost a great human being this summer when he past away. I have had a hard time trying to come to terms with his passing. I still mainly rememeber his generosity, his humor, his stubbernness, and his zest for life. The man never could sit down for long and always has a open door to anyone who he cared about. Even though he was never a blood relation, his passing felt like I (and my immediate family) lost a member of the family. Below is a poem I wrote last December to try to come to terms with his death. |
My mind is full |
of your balding scalp |
Covered by a black and gold Genesee Beer cap |
So I still find it hard to believe |
That you are gone, old friend |
I can still smell your lit Marlboro |
Hear the racket of your singing voice |
Chewing on the gum balls you used to give me |
I have to remind myself still |
No more Cornhill Festivals |
Hot summer afternoons |
Addressing you as ostrich |
Especially when mother would rustle your feathers |
Watching the tube inside your bedroom |
Or sitting inside the brick walled kitchen |
Although world seems empty now |
When I think of you, dear friend |
I can not help but smile |
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